(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 36 - All Alone In This Hotel)

Over the next few days I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I am no further forward in my relationship with Jess, but just knowing that she now knows the truth about what happened in New York is quietly comforting. She may hate me; she may never forgive me, but if that is the case (and I hope it isn't) at least it will be for the right reasons.

I spend the best part of a week in Holmes Chapel with Mum and Robin, laying low and attempting to recharge my batteries. Mum fusses over me constantly, asking how I am, asking if she can get me anything, doing all my washing. A couple of times she catches me watching TV in the lounge in the early hours of the morning, unable to sleep from the thoughts whirling round my mind.

"Can I keep you company?" she asks softly, appearing in the doorway at quarter to three on Friday morning while I am staring blankly at a man on the shopping channel selling steam mops.

"Do you need a new steam mop?" I joke halfheartedly, and she smiles as she sits down on the sofa beside me, tightening her dressing gown cord around her waist.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

I turn to look at her. "Nothing," I reply.

"This is me you're talking to," she reminds me gently. "I've known you since the day you were born. Since before you were born. I was the first person to know you even existed. I can tell when something's troubling you."

"I'm actually feeling better about things," I tell her, turning the volume lower on the TV to a faint murmur. "I feel like I can breathe now everything is out in the open. But at the same time, I feel empty. It feels almost like an anti-climax. Before, there was this big secret, and maybe a small part of me believed that when I told Jess what really happened, she would take me back."

Mum says nothing, but watches me, waiting for me to go on.

"I don't blame her for not falling into my arms immediately," I explain. "But her strength just makes me want her more. And knowing I was the one who ruined everything just makes it harder to accept that she doesn't want me. She knows me better than anyone in the world, apart from you and Gemma. She understands me, she can read me like a book. But at the same time, I lied to her for so long and she believed what I told her. So now I'm starting to think maybe she didn't know me as well as I thought she did, but even that's my own fault too, because I didn't let her in when I should have..." I trail off with a sigh. 

"No wonder you're exhausted," Mum observes. "Berating yourself over it all to this extent is draining the life out of you. You need to let go of the mistakes you made. If you don't forgive yourself, how on earth can you expect Jess to forgive you?"

"What if she never does?" This is the first time I have voiced this fear out loud to someone outside our relationship.

"Harry, what are you always preaching to your fans?"

I stare at her blankly.

"Love wins," she supplies. "If the two of you are meant to be together, she will come round eventually. If she loves you as much as I think she does, she will find it in her heart to forgive you and move on. But you must be patient. Time is a great healer, particularly when it comes to matters of the heart."

"I'm not very good at being patient," I admit.

"I know that," she smiles. "But your relationship depends on it. Give her time to think, time to breathe; time to make sense of her own feelings. Let her know you're there for her if she needs you, but also let her miss you a little bit. That won't do her any harm."

"I tried that. She never texted me, or called me, or anything," I mutter.

"But that was when she believed you didn't love her," Mum reminds me. "You've turned the tables completely, now. It's time to take a step back and let her come to you. If you pester her too much, she'll keep walking and never come back. Sometimes it's good to let her wonder about you for a change."

This makes sense. I don't believe in playing games, but Jess did ask me to give her space. And I promised to listen to her, and respect her feelings. 

"Why don't I make us both a hot chocolate, and you can take it up to bed and try and sleep?" she suggests.

"I just end up wide awake staring at the ceiling," I admit. 

"I've got some herbal sleeping tablets in the kitchen," she offers. "It might just help you drop off."

I shake my head firmly. "I don't want to take anything. Doing that is what got me into this mess." I cringe at this conversation I'm having with my mum. I don't need reminding how disappointed she is in me for taking drugs.

"It's a bit different, love," she reasons, but I stand my ground.

"No. I don't want so much as a paracetamol if I can help it." 

"Well staring at the TV screen won't help you fall asleep," she sighs. "It'll only keep you awake. Come on. I'll switch everything off down here. You go on up."

I drag myself off the sofa, up the stairs to my bedroom, strip my clothes off and slide under the covers. I close my eyes and try to switch off my thoughts but to no avail, and it's almost four o'clock before I feel myself drifting off to sleep.

....

We fly back to the US two days later. The atmosphere on the jet feels strained the moment I board, thanks to Megan's obvious reluctance to meet my eye. She seems distracted, and dismisses me when I ask her if she is alright. I put it down to embarrassment over our misunderstanding, until I catch her crying quietly by the bathroom about an hour after takeoff. 

"I know you said you were fine, but you don't look fine," I point out awkwardly, and she turns away from me, her face crumpling in misery. "Do you need to sit down?" I offer, and she nods, so I steer her to an empty seat next to the toilet door.

"You don't have to tell me what's up if you don't want to," I tell her, "but I can offer a sympathetic ear if you do."

"It's just... my mom isn't very well," she mumbles. "I only found out on the way over here, and I had to stay in London by myself for two nights before I could fly back today. I couldn't afford a flight home."

"Oh no," I murmur softly, not wanting to ask how serious it is for fear of upsetting her further. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't be working the flight. You should be relaxing."

"No, it's OK, I had to work to be able to get home," she replies, wiping her eyes.

"Well that's not right," I say firmly, and I stand up and walk up the plane in search of the head steward. I find him by the cockpit chatting to the pilot while he serves him coffee.

"Harry," he greets me.

"Hi," I reply. "Megan's mum isn't well. She only found out a couple of days ago, and she's been waiting for this flight to get her back home. She's in no fit state to work."

"She never said anything," he frowns.

"She needs a few hours to rest. There's only a few of us on this flight," I add, "and we're not exactly demanding. I'll serve drinks myself if I need to."

"That won't be necessary," he says quickly, darting a glance over my shoulder towards Megan whom I notice is watching us with wide eyes and listening to every word. "We can manage without her, I'm sure."

"Thank you," I say, gratefully, and he accompanies me to where she is sitting to tell her she can take the rest of the flight off.

Once he has returned to serving coffee, Megan turns to me with fresh tears in her eyes. "That is probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," she whispers, and she leans forward and kisses me softly on the lips.

I pull back in horror, leaning backwards to put as much distance between us as the confined space will allow, unable to believe what she has just done.

"Megan! What...?"

"Sorry," she whispers. "I'm just feeling a little emotionally raw right now."

"I'm spoken for," I reiterate, gently but firmly. "I'm really sorry. Please don't cross the line again."

She nods, tears spilling down her cheeks again as she looks down at her lap, her shoulders heaving. I'm torn - I want to hug her, but I'm worried she'll try and jump my bones or something. I glance around the cabin but no one is paying any attention to us. Niall and Louis are asleep, and Liam and Sophia are cuddled up together, talking quietly.

I gently put one arm around her shoulders and she breaks down quietly, covering her face with her hands while her body shakes. I rub her back sympathetically, used to this behaviour from hysterical fans. When she finally calms down she wipes her eyes with a tissue and looks up at me in embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," she apologises. "I feel so stupid. Emotion took over, and it shouldn't have. I'm not normally this unprofessional."

I am met with the memory of the photograph of Jess kissing Louis that was plastered all over the tabloids. "I was mortified, it was so embarrassing. I don't know what I was thinking. I was really drunk. And sad."

Her explanation comes back to me, and although I have forgiven her momentary lapse of judgement (I was in no position to judge anyway) I suddenly understand it a little better after what Megan has just done.

"It's OK," I reassure her. "Don't worry about it. Just take some time to chill out for the next few hours, and try not to worry about your mum. I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Thanks Harry," she says softly. "Whoever she is, she's a lucky girl."

If only she thought so.

I smile at Megan, and once I have fetched her a blanket from the cupboard at the back of the plane I sit down in my own seat again with a sigh. 

It's a testament to my feelings towards Jess. Megan is hot - yet I'm not even remotely tempted. All I can think about is those soft blonde waves, those sparkling hazel eyes, those delicious warm lips and Little White Lies. 

My phone beeps with a text. It's Kendall.

Are you still alive?

Just about, I reply. On the flight back. Wanna meet up soon?

Sure. Let's coordinate.

Our outfits? I joke.

Loser, comes the reply, and I chuckle to myself.

Hanging out with Kendall might help to take my mind off Jess for a bit, and goodness knows I need that. I'll go insane if I don't keep myself occupied while I wait for her to make her mind up about us. 

I remind myself yet again to keep my distance, to give her space like she asked. I'm determined not to fuck this up again - it's my last chance to win her back. And this time I'm playing the long game.

---***--- 

So it's been a while since I last updated Harry's POV, but hopefully now you understand why! I have been writing these chapters although I haven't been posting them, but I'll have to pause the updates again soon until HMR is finished... you'll see why eventually! Thank you for reading, and for the "UPDATE!" comments, they honestly make my day! I hope you all had a good Christmas, and are looking forward to the new year xxx